


the war is over, the good guys lost

by bountifulsilences



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Study, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mental Anguish, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Torture, Violence, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bountifulsilences/pseuds/bountifulsilences
Summary: “As long as Hydra lives, I will do everything in my power to make them suffer. I will avenge every last soul even if it kills me,” he said decidedly.“It already has,” Bucky pointed out.Staring at his clenched fist, Steve replied, “well, some sacrifices are worth making.”or, the one where the horrors of the past followed Steve into the new century and nothing's changed. not really.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another repost I suck but lately ive been thinking about this bc...it doesn't suck that much?? idk it was cool so why not post it again
> 
> still inspired by Sigrid - everybody knows 
> 
> still hastily edited so im sorry for that. but hey, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless?? 
> 
> WARNING: an entire village is slaughtered by hydra. steve gets angry and tortures a hydra agent.

When the ground was painted red with the blood of the innocent, crimson streams formed valleys that separated the living and the dead. Bodies were sprayed all over, children and adults alike, face stricken with fear. Bullet casings littered the floor and crunched beneath his feet.

“Jesus Christ…” a Commando muttered, hastily making a prayer.

Steve ignored it, eyes full of ire. Walking to the centre of the town, his shield was stiff in his clenched fist, his hands full of tension that dispersed from him- oozed out of his body warningly, making everyone stay a safe distance. He could even feel reluctance from Bucky.

The road that cut through the middle of town was plagued with death. Here lay a majority of the deceased, eyes open and mouth slack jawed. Their pupils were blown out, terror written clearly all over and he grinded his teeth together.

Reaching the concrete, he halted, feet digging into the stone and planting him there indefinitely. Closing his eyes and inhaling a deep breath, he exhaled, eyelids sharply receding revealing the mangled mess of civilians in the only place they could ever feel safe. Deep inside, rage controlled him.

“What happened here…” someone questioned.

“Hydra.”

Walking over to a blood-stricken wall, he paused a foot away from a mother, bodies engraved under her cloak. Her children, he reckoned, whom she died protecting, shielded using the thinnest material on the planet. What could cotton do against an armada of bullets? Nothing. Only vibranium was a match for it.

Inspecting the wall, he saw holes overlapping each other, missed chances that could have made all the difference. Everyone who fell was destined; what protest could flesh and bone make against metal? Running was futile, as the countless corpses proved. But every bullet that missed was an opportunity to live. To survive.

Blood painted the wall, tear drops splattered on the canvas and they were mostly dry, some no longer dripping but mattifying. They were close, nearby. Impulse consumed him for a moment and instructed him to run and make the perpetrators suffer, but he needed a plan. He had to avenge these people. Not become one of them.

Trying to collect his thoughts, he fought himself to stay focused on the task at hand. Standing up tall, he squared his shoulders, preparing for battle. Behind him, the Commandos lined up.

“Captain?”

Find an agent, bring him back, and extract information. The remote town they targeted was not the destination, but they landed there and bred chaos as they pledged to do so. Steve knew their plan, they were heading to a factory responsible for weapons development to arm up.

They must have gotten bored, not much to kill apart from animals whilst travelling. They wanted to have fun and this town was the perfect playground. When the opportunity arose, how could they control themselves? They didn’t know they were being followed, or that someone would discover the sins they committed.

Steve vowed to make every single person pay for what they did. He was sure the Commandos sensed that too.

“They can’t have gotten far, blood’s still drying,” he said, back facing his men. “Three of you stay here and prepare a room, I’m bringing a guest over. We leave in five.”

Stalking away, he left it to them to decide who joined him and who stayed, each option daunting. There was no scapegoat, on both ends was something neither men wanted to commit to. But they had to.

He determined the way Hydra left as they conversed amongst themselves in a circle, voice hushed as though there was anyone there to listen. Their enemies had ensured there was no one to witness what was to come. But the villagers weren’t the ones they shied from, it was him.

East; they were chasing the sun.

Adrenaline coursed through his bloodstream, urging him to sprint and find the culprits before they escaped, but he knew they wouldn’t. Nobody could outrun him, not even the Devil himself. Justice would be served. Painfully, if things went according to plan. Regardless of how he itched to get onto the battlefield, he waited for the Commandos to reach their decision.

“Steve,” Bucky said. “Ready when you are.”

Nodding, he inhaled sharply through his nose and quickly forced an exhalation. Hydra were going to regret this stop.

 

* * * *

 

The agent was strapped to a chair, arms confined to the wood using scarves that didn't belong to them, and legs intertwined. The mask was tossed aside, exposing the demon’s identity, which made Steve seethe more. They were humans who acted inhumanely. There was no justification.

All the Commandos were present in the room, illuminated candles surrounding Steve but concealing them. He knew they were holding their breaths but daren’t say anything. Even Bucky was detached, as though his physical body was the only thing present at the moment. Steve would focus on it later.

Concentrating on the coward before him, Steve towered over his trapped body and demanded, “why the massacre.”

Infuriating him further, the man had the gall to laugh and said, “needed to let off some steam, it’s been a long journey.”

He was not prepared to handle this sort of attitude, nor wasn’t willing to either. Nodding, he gave the man a moment to bask in his amusement before pulling out the army knife in his trousers and crouched so they were face to face. Understandingly, he replied, “trust me, I get it.”

Without a prompt, he forced the knife into the man's thigh, thrusting it through the flesh and past the bone, hoping to hear it connect with wood. Unfortunately, it didn’t. He didn’t mourn too much over the fact as the man howled, lurching forward as pain drowned his expression. The chair jumped, jostling the blade that Steve left in him, quite possibility aggravating the wound more.

“A reliable source told me that leaving the knife in prevents blood loss, so that death doesn’t come straight away. Isn't that great?” Steve asked him, retrieving another knife and playing with it in his hand.

Unable to answer, the man shouted, tugging at his restraints in despair, tears diving off his face. Deep inside, Steve felt satisfied seeing the pain the man was in. Massacre wasn’t fun from the victim’s side, he’d learn that lesson the hard way.

“Co-operate and I’ll make this as painless as I can make it,” Steve offered, a deal where death was promised, immediate and painless,

“Fuck you American,” the agent spat. “You sick bastard.”

“You don’t know just how sick I can get,” Steve told, grinning in a way he knew he was unrecognisable. “Now tell me, where is this factory your men are heading?”

Austria, he had overheard it a conversation where they were unsuspecting of him.

“I’m not telling you,” the man panted, eyes wide and distrustful.

“But you’re going to regret that,” Steve told him, a chance to escape the hole he was digging himself.

“Hail Hydra!” he shouted, voice shaky and frightened.

Steve tutted. “I guess we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.”

Twirling the knife in his hand, he waited for a moment, allowing a protest to erupt. But it never came, and Steve thought if the man had made his bed he would lie in it too, plunging the blade though the other thigh and twisting it slightly.

Blood spluttered from the wound, spraying across his clothes and onto Steve’s. A puddle accumulated on the floor, staining the stone with its pigment, and leaving their mark in the empty town. The man screamed, trying to pull away but was unable too. He felt no remorse seeing his anguish. It was all he brought upon himself.

Sometime during, he couldn’t be too sure when, someone left the room possibly unable to hear anymore. He didn’t question or ask the remaining people who it was. After all, even he knew what he was doing was hard to stomach. But he still did it.

“Where is the factory?” he asked again, voice sweet.

Idly he wandered over to his shield that was resting against the leg of a table. Grabbing it, he sauntered back to the man, patiently waiting for an answer. Despite the tears, the evident pain and the unending suffering, the man yelled, “hail Hydra!”

“Okay then,” Steve affirmed, raising the shield and raining it down on the man's ankles, timing the attack just right.

He pulled his feet back, but tugged on his slice meat at the same time and Steve couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he was in. The man sobbed, head rolling back and eyes disappearing into his mind.

Behind him, he heard a soft voice call out, “Captain.”

Without facing the host, he replied, “yes?”

“The Sarge says he knows where the factory is...overheard someone talking back at their campsite.”

He nodded. Eyes paralysed as they stared at the man, shaking as tremors shook him to his core. Steve knew they had had enough, wanted him to stop.

“Very well,” he said. Addressing the man, he crouched and forced him to look at him, whispering, “I’ll show mercy on you even though you don’t deserve it. Those people didn’t deserve what happened to them, but you deserve all of this and more.”

Confident, knowing that his death was imminent, the man grinned, blood cloaking his teeth and responded, “hail Hydra.”

Enraged, Steve slapped him, pleased to hear it echo and for the man to scream out. Slowly, he pulled the knives out, knowing that they had coloured his hands red, but it was worth it, hearing the agony emit from the agent. Stretching it out for as long as he could, he wiped his hands on the suit, outstretching it behind him.

Cool metal met his warm skin, icy to touch but welcome. Steve clasped his hand around it and pointed the barrel to the agents forehead. Hearing his whimpers of excruciating pain, he told him, “I hope you burn in hell,” before pulling the trigger and effectively killing him.

Silence stormed into the room, masking Steve’s heavy breathing and the Commandos. It was quite possible that he had lost everyone's respect, Bucky most likely believed that the serum had made a monster, not a hero. But he couldn't let them get away with it. He just couldn’t.

Offering the gun back, he faced his men with a brave face and nodded once, noting the tired lines on their foreheads. It was then he realised that Bucky wasn’t present, had disappeared sometime during the act.

Clearing his throat, he questioned, “where’s Bucky?”

Jones was the only one who could answer from all of them. “Outside. Said he needed some fresh air.”

“You should check on him,” Morita said, suddenly looking alive. “He didn’t look good before he left. Somethings wrong but he’s just not saying what.”

“Yeah Cap,” Dum Dum conceded, “he looks like he needs you, we’ll deal with this, you try to get through to the Sarge.”

Indignant, he started, “no, I’ll sort this out after I’ve spoken to Bucky you don’t-” _you don’t need to paint yourselves red because of my sins._

Dum Dum waved it off, face unpleasant. “He got what was coming to him...you did what we all wanted to do. But we never could.”

“Bastard deserved a lot more for what they did to the people here,” Falsworth added. “It’s just not easy to see it, you know?”

He sighed. He did know.

“Well, gentlemen, I’ll see you in a few,” Steve said, nodding at them, and then walking out, head higher than it should be.

 

* * * *

 

“You okay?” Steve asked, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom.

He was unharmed but exhausted. All over his face was an emotion Steve couldn’t explain or place. Holding his tongue, he didn’t comment on it.

“Yeah...yeah I’m fine,” Bucky replied, voice quiet and gentle. “You? Had quite the afternoon didn’t you.”

Steve swallowed. “I’m fine. Did I-” do something?

“No.” Bucky sighed bone deep tiredness seeping through. “It’s just...it’s easy to forget where you are, everything looks the same but different at the same time.”

He was talking about Azzano, Steve deduced. Being strapped to a table and being a victim of horrors. He didn’t know what exactly Bucky went through, refused to elaborate on the little things he revealed, but it followed him everywhere, like a shadow.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Buck,” Steve apologised truthfully. “I guess I just...turned off.”

“You don’t need to apologise Steve,” Bucky told him tenderly, an insecure and timid smile spreading on his face. “I get it, I really do. We’ve all done things here that make sleeping a whole lot more difficult, we’ve changed. You shouldn’t have to worry about me atop everything.”

 “I’ll always worry,” he said instinctively. “But you gotta tell me when things get rough Buck, you can’t hold it in.”

Bucky’s eyes sharpened, a challenge brewing in their depth. “If I can’t hold it in, why can you?”

“I-” Steve failed at constructing an answer.

“I know you Steve Rogers,” Bucky said suddenly, walking up to him purposefully. “I know that this whole thing you got going on is a mask, that you’re struggling to control yourself on most days and that you need to break down, so you can build yourself back up. So, tell me Captain, why can’t I if you can?”

“I don’t have to Buck, I’m stronger now. The serum-”

“Steve you’re shaking as you speak, so explain to me how you don’t have to,” Bucky demanded, eyes fiery. “Agent Carter said your body is at its peak, the best it can ever get for us. I’m no doctor but I know a thing or two about the brain, and I know that it’s more than just your body. So, don’t bullshit me. Just don’t.”

“I am the Captain,” he explained, stepping forward. “If I break down, they might lose hope. We’re blowing up buildings, finding civilians dead more often than not, and tempting death every time we go into battle. I need to be strong for them, for you.”

They were as close as they could be, tip of their shoes touching. Still, Bucky elevated himself to press his nose against Steve’s. “We all signed up for that when we joined. We don’t expect you to deal with out burdens but trust you to do the right thing by everyone. Stop giving yourself more responsibilities than you can handle.”

“As long as I’m the leader, your wellbeing will be my responsibility. I signed up for that when I formed this team. I appreciate the sentiment Buck, but I’m just gonna have to wait until the wars over. Then, and only then, will I deal with myself.”

“You’re a piece of shit Rogers,” Bucky spat, glaring at him in evident annoyance.

He shrugged his shoulders, smiling poorly. “I’m your piece of shit?”

“Damn right you are,” Bucky muttered, throwing his arms around Steve, and pulling him in. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“I know, we still have to discuss what happened to you,” Steve said, burrowing his face into Bucky’s neck.

“Later, we’re going to discuss everything,” Bucky vowed, Steve affirming every word.

It was a shame that later never came.


	2. Chapter 2

The war was over. It had been fought, blood had spilled, and lives had been lost.

So, why was he still here doing what was supposed to have ended decades ago? Steve couldn’t fathom an explanation, frustration built to its peak. One thing was certain: they had lost.

It was cold, colder than he felt comfortable with. But whilst he danced around the Hydra agents, shield travelling all over the factory, he warmed up soon enough, chasing away the frost starting to case his body.

When the last body fell, soul dissipating and leaving a shell behind, he raised his arm, shield slotting itself into his hand so he could plaster it on his back. The factory was void of life, himself and his companion not included. But then again, he didn’t feel very alive. He didn’t feel much at all.

A ghost lingered around him.

Breathing harshly through his mouth, he put the shield away, wiping his brow and closing his eyes. His attentive ears picked up movement from behind, a body jump down stories using nothing but agility and strength, landing next to him. Opening his eyes, he saw a familiar silhouette.

“Charges are in place, ready when you are,” Bucky said, passing over a device with a single button.

Without a word, Steve took and held it. He knew his agitation was obvious, he wasn’t actively trying to hide it, not anymore. But he thought maybe now wasn’t the time. He should get away from Bucky, get someone nowhere can reach him and vent his feelings.

Then again, he never made the right decisions unless it was in a war he thought was over, so maybe he should get on with it. It was a matter of moments before he imploded like a firework in the room, ashes of stories cascading around them. Maybe getting it out of the way was healthy, cathartic.

“You glare any harder your eyes might pop out of their sockets,” Bucky commented casually, looking at him with feigned disinterest.

Steve rubbed his teeth together. “Three years. Three years we spent trying to wipe these fuckers off the face of the earth and 100 years later they're still here.”

“Cut one head and three will go in its place,” Bucky recited distantly.

“S.H.I.E.L.D was a Hydra playground, and I was one of the most loyal users of all. I saw the weapons, I saw the secrecy, I saw the deception-” his hands squeezed into fists painfully. “But I was foolish enough to believe Fury when they said we had won. The war was over, but we had lost.”

“He didn’t know. No one did,” Bucky reminded him, comical considering Steve should be the one who was doing the comforting.

“S.H.I.E.L.D had hit a shipwreck before Hydra infested it,” Steve said, turning to face the side Bucky wasn’t stood. “Fury lied again and again, and when shit hit the fan he pleaded ignorance. Hydra was not the only problem and he knew it, but this was the perfect scapegoat out. He latched onto it and left the collateral damage to everyone else.”

“Steve.”

“Nothing's changed, Buck! 100 years later we’re still fighting a war that we thought we had won, we’re still getting betrayed by those we trusted, we’re still being played like pawns in someone else's game.” His eyes darted across the grey floor. “It’s just one of those things, isn’t it? The poor stay poor and the rich get richer. We’re never going to outrun them.”

“You don’t have to do this Steve,” Bucky said, quite emotive for someone who acted as though he wasn’t. “You can walk away when you want.”

“But you know I can’t. I promised Doctor Erskine I’ll eliminate Hydra, use this serum for the good it was intended for. Leaving that mess for some else is breaking our deal: the deal where I fight the bullies that ruined everyone's live. They’re just a pest problem I can’t solve.”

Voice emerging closer to him, Bucky said, “screw deals! Nobody ever keeps their end of the bargain and you know it. If it's bothering you so much then forget about them, there are plenty of people who can deal with them, people who are just as qualified.”

“I’m not nobody, I can’t do that Erskine. I gave him my word and it’s something I intend to keep,” he stated, voice full of conviction and exhaustion.

“Steve even he couldn’t predict Hydra lasting this long, even super soldiers need a break. For the love of God, can’t you be selfish, just for once?” Bucky sounded annoyed, as though it was justified.

Turning to face him, Steve reminded him, “I am being selfish. Have been. I stalked you, didn’t I?”

“That was different, and you know it,” Bucky said, glaring. “This is about doing what you want to do, whatever debt you feel like you had towards Erskine has been paid. You fought Hydra and willingly gave up your life for the greater good. Do what you want, fuck Hydra.”

Steve remembered all the things he’d ever seen in the name of Hydra. The experiments, the deaths, the weapons of mass destruction, the distorted ideologies- he couldn’t back down. Not when he was so invested, and it was his mission to eradicate the beast once and for all. He wouldn’t stop at anything.

“As long as Hydra lives, I will do everything in my power to make them suffer for the suffering they’ve caused to millions of people. I will avenge every last soul even if it kills me,” he said decidedly.

“It already has,” Bucky pointed out.

Staring at his clenched fist, Steve replied, “well, some sacrifices are worth making.”

Whilst in the ice, he was formally pronounced dead. However, despite the frozen heart and the stiffness buried in his muscles, doctors noted some brain activity that suggested he may not have entirely passed on. There was still something left to salvage.

Like vultures, they prodded, and they examined and ate, desperate to bring him back to a world he wasn’t sure he liked. The jury was still out.

“These sacrifices might kill you a second time. That time though, there’s no waking up,” Bucky announced, voice calm and controlled.

Steve knew the consequences, the outcome his recklessness bred. But he couldn’t stop. Not when Hydra was his problem, not theirs. Had he been successful they wouldn’t be reeking such havoc to this day.

“We’ve all gotta die sometime Buck, can’t fear something we face every day,” he declared, shrugging indefinitely. “If they kill me for good, then they do. But I won’t stop. What they did us, to the people of the last century and this, to everyone- this a mess I will clean up. Till death.”

“I guess some things never change,” Bucky mused. “People still treat others like shit, we’re in a different war with different countries, and you will always sacrifice yourself for everyone else.”

“We did things that made nights a lot harder for us,” he started, eyes hardening. “Those weren’t for nothing. I won’t let them be for nothing. Everything we’ve done and are doing has one end: Hydra’s death or mine. There can only be one victor and I sure as hell won’t let it be them.”

Strolling to face Steve, Bucky cocked his head to the side, gaze analytical. “You don’t want to be here, in this century, but you’ll do everything to protect it. You hate how nothing’s changed- the government is abusing minorities and people have to hide themselves from their families, but you see the progression and that things are changing, albeit slowly. You love and hate it here.”

Matching his eyes, he replied, “laying me bare on the table doesn’t change a damn thing. Of course, I do. Just like you.”

“I’m different.” Bucky’s grin could have been feral, had his eyes not betrayed him. “My stories different from yours.”

“Still in the same position as me though,” Steve reminded him. “Men out of our times, that’s what we are.”

Bucky hummed. “Guess we’ll have to see what happens. We might get rid of Hydra like we want, or we’ll die in a blaze trying our damn hardest. To hell with everything.”

“To hell with Hydra,” Steve amended, smiling forming at his lips.

“To hell with Hydra,” Bucky corrected, an eyeroll imminent. “So, down with this building and the we’ll grab some breakfast?”

“It’s like you spoke my mind, Buck,” Steve agreed, pushing his elbow out, arm creased as an invitation. “I’m feeling pancakes, what about you?”

Sliding his arm around Steve’s, Bucky replied, “I could eat a horse.”

As they walked out of the chamber, ignoring the bodies that sprawled uncomfortably around them, Steve rolled his head back and laughed. “Got none of those where we’re going, but I’m sure you’ll find something just as good.”

Feet planted on the grass, staring up at the daunting building, Steve felt no remorse pushing the button on the device, watching the stone crumble and structure collapse.

To hell with them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to hell with them all <3
> 
> tumblr:  bountifulsilences   
> twitter:  AwestruckBuck 


End file.
